Make it Hurt a Little
by seabluemermaid
Summary: For all us Alex Mahone fans! In case you were wondering, Alex did get to see Cam after he got hit by that car...and this is what happened when he had some moments with Pam. I don't own PB.


Pam had suggested Alex stop by her apartment for a glass of wine. She knew she had that bottle of Merlot in the fridge and it would eventually go to waste since she was the only one drinking it. Those were the pitfalls of living alone. Alex had asked her to make it coffee instead. Technically, he was still on duty; besides, he wouldn't be staying for long.

It didn't matter, she realized as she fixed him a cup. Dark, just a couple drops of milk, and amusingly enough, Alex liked it sweet, three sugars. Funny, after everything that had happened between them, doing little things for this man still gave her pleasure.

He had his back to her when she walked into the living room. Her little place, where she'd learned to live alone, just she and Cameron. Even holding down a full-time job, she kept the place neat and pretty cozy, if she said so herself. That damn cell phone was to Alex's ear again. How she would have loved to hurl it into the town's swimming pool, where she took Cam for lessons.

"I'm headed back there now," he was saying gruffly to someone on the other end. "Just make sure you get me those things I asked you for. . . . When? . . . How about I needed 'em yesterday . . . I don't need your opinion, Agent Wheeler, just do it."

She couldn't help but grin mischievously. Nobody did bossy quite as deliciously as Alexander Mahone. To be honest, the man had it down to an art form.

But her smile faded appropriately as he turned to face her. God, what had he been through? Pale and gaunt from the ordeal he'd been through, between getting shot and the surgery to remove the bullet, and yet still so infuriatingly sexy. The expanse of his shoulders in that black suit jacket made her want to wrap her arms around them and not let go.

"I swear, sometimes I think Wheeler and Lang want those two cons to get off scot-free," Alex mumbled.

"Mmm-hmmm."

Purposely, she chose to seat herself on the leather arm chair. Sitting with him on the couch—now that would've been dangerous. Especially tonight. She was still mad at herself for losing it on the phone, crying hysterically for him to come as soon as he could. Could anyone blame her, though? With her son injured and the hospital not allowing her to see him, she'd felt helpless and frightened. No one else would do at that moment, only Alex. She needed him by her side.

Yet now, calmed down, she was maintaining her distance for her sanity's sake. And because, let's face it: As much as she wanted him, as much as she wanted to be comforted at that time by him, she was not—absolutely not—making a fool of herself. Just in case all his reasons for coming back to the apartment with her had to do with duty, honor, fatherhood, all that good stuff, and nothing at all to do with her.

"Coffee's good," he declared after sampling it.

"You don't have time for dinner, right?" she asked. "Because I could whip something up if you're hungry—"

"Pam, thanks, but my stomach's still kinda jumpy."

"Oh. The anesthesia, right?"

"Right."

What was the look he gave her right then? Reluctantly, she tore her own gaze away, curling one leg under her as she drank her coffee. Those sky-blue eyes of Alex's, veiled by those long blond lashes, the same eyes that had just about seduced her the first time she'd laid eyes on him, could be so expressive, so break-your-heart sad at times.

Nevertheless, she steeled herself. This time, she would be a match for them.

"You doing better now?" he asked.

"Much better."

"Good. Everything's gonna be all right. We had a close call there, but we still have our son. Cam should be out of there in—"

"Who would've done such a terrible thing, Alex? To a little boy, for God's sake?"

She could see his Adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed hard. When he blinked his eyes, she could see they were moist. He wouldn't cry in front of her, or at least he never had before. Alex was old-school in that regard, but right then he looked so vulnerable. This man she regarded, even now after the divorce, as Cam's protector and her own. Strong, manly Alex, who'd once been so loving and devoted to her until that day when everything had changed.

Out of the blue, he had changed.

"He got hit by a car, Pam," Alex explained quietly.

"Yeah, okay. And it just so happens that our son—my baby—gets hit by a car just as someone puts a bullet in his daddy? Alex . . . " She dropped the foot tucked under her back onto the floor and leaned forward, "Enough with all the mystery. Our son could've died today. I want some answers."

"And you'll get them, Pam. Just—not right now. Okay?" He set his coffee down onto the coffee table beside the arrangement of fresh flowers in a vase. His gaze lingered on them, and she guessed he was recalling her penchant for keeping fresh, cheery flowers and plants around when they'd lived together.

At home. In the house they'd once shared . . . as a family.

"I gotta go," he said, rising to his feet.

"Me, too. I have to get back to the hospital."

"I wish I could stay with you and Cam."

She noted the quiver in his voice and her heart skipped a painful beat. Before she could say another word, a knock at the door interrupted them.

"Who would that be at this hour?" Alex muttered, seemingly more to himself.

He followed her to the door. A flicker of disappointment burned in her. Pam noticed his hand reaching inside his jacket, no doubt falling on the gun in his holster.

Her protector once more . . . but at the cost of losing that peek at the old, tender Alex he had once been to her. My Alex. Pushing aside those sentimental feelings, which she couldn't deal with right now anyway, she stopped him with a hand pressed against his chest.

"Who is it?" she asked.

From the other side of the door a familiar voice—familiar to her, anyway—replied, "It's me, Pam, honey. Just checking in on you."

Alex frowned. "Who's that?"

"A friend." Without hesitation, she opened the door. "Hi, Ben."

"Hey. Just checking on you and my little buddy." The visitor stood as tall as Alex, if a good seven or eight years older. An attractive man, with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes as green as Alex's were blue. He looked past Pam and stared at her husband, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Ben, this is my husband . . . "

Damn. Biting her lip, she went on, correcting herself, "My ex-husband, Alex Mahone. Alex, this is Ben McCoy. My friend. He lives right down the hall in 2C."

The older man recovered quickly, though his tone was strained. He extended his hand for a shake. "Good to meet you. Cam's a terrific kid, Alex."

"Yeah. Thanks. He sure is." After a second, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Nice to meet you, too."

Ben nodded and addressed Pam. "So Cam's doing better?"

"A lot better. I'm going back to the hospital now."

"Ah, then I won't keep you."

"That's all right. You're a sweetheart for checking on us."

"Oh, I couldn't go to bed tonight unless I knew you two were all right. But I . . . " Ben half smiled at Alex, who was forcing a smile in return. "I see you're okay and in good hands. So I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks again."

Alex waited until she'd closed the door. " 'You're a sweetheart?' " he repeated with a mirthless chuckle.

"What? He is a sweetheart." Pam turned so that he wouldn't see her amusement at his expense.

"How long you know this guy?"

"Since Cam and I have lived here. And we've lived here ever since you told me you wanted me out of your life, Alex."

He shook his head in that husbandly, oh-let's-not-get-into-that-right-now manner. "I'm just—I just want to know you're safe."

"Alex, as you can probably tell, Ben is a lot older than that Michael Scofield character, who's also been at my door. Speaking of which, that was . . . interesting." She hesitated, remembering that visit from Lincoln Burrows' younger brother, who'd conned her into giving him information about Alex. "And he's not with anyone who'd—well, he doesn't mean us any harm, that's all. Ben McCoy is harmless."

"You know that for sure? How close are you to him?"

She didn't answer right away. She folded her arms across her chest, feeling a whirlwind of emotions whipping through her like a tornado. Better to be honest, yes, but not brutally so. Make it hurt a little, but not enough to drive him away.

"Ben's wanted to be a lot closer than we are," she said.

Alex surprised her with his reaction, that nervous twitch in his lips. His eyes flashed blue fire.

So there's still hope, she thought with excitement. It matters to him that another man is interested in me. I matter to him.

The back of her throat constricted with unshed tears. Solidly, willfully, she held her ground, tilting her chin up in defiance.

"So all you are is friends," he clarified. "He comes by, checks on you—"

"I'm not over you, Alex," she confessed. "The one time Ben and I had lunch together and he kissed me, I told him I wasn't over you."

"He kissed you?" Both hurt and anger registered on Alex's face. "I—I gotta go, Pam. I'll call you later to see how Cam's doing."

"Okay."

"Tell my boy I love him."

"I will."

With more force than necessary, Alex tugged open the door. Her first instinct was to stop him, to break down in tears again like she had over the phone earlier. That would have been utterly useless, however; he'd already said he was going back to FBI headquarters. Besides, she was tired of playing that role, of the damsel in distress, who'd fall right back into the hero's arms in spite of the fact that the hero had shattered her heart.

So she stood perfectly straight, head held high, fiercely intent on protecting her heart and her pride. He stood motionless, then turned to her.

"You know I'm not over you, either, right?" he blurted out.

It took effort on her part, but she was restrained, even slightly cold to him. "That so?"

"You know I'm not. You know me, Pam."

"I thought I did, Alex. Sometimes, I still think I do. And then sometimes—"

Just when she thought she wouldn't falter, that she would be as strong as she had to be and make it through a few moments with Alex Mahone without him gaining the upper hand again, she felt her resolve slip away like a melting early winter snow. His hands closed around her petite shoulders and he pressed her back against the wall.

And then he overpowered her with a kiss. That was no chaste little peck on the cheek, either. That was a hot, smoldering kiss that meant business. Hot with anger. Hot with jealousy. Hot with a desire that hadn't died, as much as she'd convinced herself that it had.

When the kiss ended he didn't release her instantly. His eyes bore into hers. She couldn't help but wonder what sex between them would have been like after a kiss like that, which had left them both breathless. She knew she wanted him, and he, up close against her like that, wanted her. She could tell because she felt his arousal. Her blood felt hot in her veins.

Another kiss. She desperately wanted another one.

But he wasn't doing this to her. Uh-uh. As strongly as she wanted to stay right there in his arms, to be sheltered there, to feel the heat of his body mingled with her own, she wasn't ready to give in. Not this time. She wasn't making it easy on him anymore.

If Alex wanted her, he would have to win her back. He wanted her heart? Fine. Then he'd better be ready to put up one hell of a fight for it.

"You'd better go," she whispered. "And I have to get back to the hospital."

It was written all over Alex's face. He was stunned. He understood; he'd just been rejected . . . by his own wife. But in his usual stoic, rather stern way, he nodded. Huskily, he said, "I'll call you. I'll check on my family."

She caught the meaning of those words, meant to say that he wouldn't have some stranger protecting her or his son in his place.

And it took all of her strength not to follow after him as he strode, stiffly but proudly, down the corridor and through the door that led to the stairwell, where he disappeared from her sight once more.

END


End file.
